Clash of the Titans
by Rap541
Summary: This is a story I started after a friend and I were discussing how cool it would be if other characters from other tv shows could be on an SG team. And that there really doesn't seem to be a hiring criteria there
1. Default Chapter

Clash Of The Titans

Hammond knew O'Neill wouldn't like his decision. He wasn't entirely pleased with the concept himself, but when the President made a suggestion, he had to be listened to, no matter how asinine. And, for a change, it wasn't asinine. At least on paper. It was the execution he was concerned about. He looked at the amassed Stargate teams and carefully considered his words.

" I'm glad to see that so many of you were able to attend," he began. In fact, only four of the teams had been unable to get back in time and none of those were likely to have a bad reaction. " As you know, the SGC is constantly growing and evolving…" He glared down the few snickers. " It has always been understood that at some point in the future, the public will need to be informed of exactly what we do. That time isn't yet here, but the President has decided that it is time to start actively recruiting civilians into the project."

Capt. Samantha Carter looked at him quizzically. " General, we've been utilizing civilian researchers for years." Many of the other men and women nodded at that. However, it was clear that O'Neill and Jackson, along with a few others, had an inkling of where he was going.

" That is true, Capt. Carter, we have had civilian research experts going out with teams for some time. However, with rare exception, the SG team personnel are active duty military personnel. The president feels that the first step towards revealing the Stargate to the world at large is to begin establishing civilian SG teams. All of you will be involved, with selection and training. I assure you that our standards will not be compromised in any way. Does anyone have any questions?" There was dead silence. With no small amount of private amusement, Hammond noted that most of the teams were waiting for the members of SG-1 to sound off.

And true to form, Jack O'Neill stepped forward. " I have a question, sir." His expression made it clear what his opinion was, but Hammond nodded anyway. Sometimes it was better to let everyone grumble a bit.

O'Neill smirked. " I was just wondering what the application process was going to look like. The kid that makes my coffee over at Starbucks was looking for something a little more challenging."

Hammond allowed the laughter to go on for a few moments. " Col. O'Neill, if that coffee barrista boy meets our hiring criteria and can qualify for a top secret clearance, then feel free to suggest his name." He was glad O'Neill said it, because he knew it would be the chief concern. " There will be no, I repeat, no drop in quality. Anyone else?" No one spoke up but he was pretty certain that he had not heard the last from SG-1.

Teal'c often wondered how the Tau'ri ever managed to raise themselves up out of the turmoil that passed for what they deemed society. As individuals, he knew they were formidable. Worthy opponents, and clever warriors, their sense of individuality gave them an advantage over the Go'a'ld. And yet, the simplest things often set off hours of angry debate. It no longer surprised him that, while formidable against their enemies, the Tau'ri fought amongst themselves over petty, childish reasons.

From a philosophical standpoint, he understood Colonel O'Neill's objection. While he was himself rather disturbed by the idea of recruiting new teams, there was a necessity for more teams. Teams with different skills. While the military approach was important, he could see the value of adding more people like Daniel Jackson, who often came up with ingenious solutions to the problems the Go'a'ld threw at the Tau'ri.

He also understood that while O'Neill objected to General Hammond's decision, despite all of his complaining, the man would do as ordered. The angry words that he was currently flinging around were just his way of expressing his irritation.

It was very annoying.

"No,"O'Neill said as he slapped down the last file, " Not one of these people are acceptable." It wasn't the first time O'Neill had said it, and judging from the expressions of Carter and Daniel, they were becoming tired and irritated. Teal'c himself was not tired, but irritation was an emotion he was willing to allow himself.

Daniel picked up the large stack of files and began to thumb through them. " Every single one of these people meet the recruitment criteria. They're physically fit, they're all well educated…"

" They all have some firearms training," Carter added helpfully. " Look, Colonel, we have to pick some people to approach. If we reject every single candidate before we even make an offer to any of them, the president is not going to be very happy."

" I am not concerned about his happiness, I'm concerned about the integrity of the project," O'Neill shot back. " Look at this file." He took the file off the top of the stack and slapped it down onto the table the four of them were sitting around, and opened it to the surveillance picture of the candidate. " He looks like he's twelve."

Daniel took the file and looked it over. " He's also a near genius and his theoretical work on wormholes makes him very useful. He has a doctorate in physics, recently attained, but currently unemployed. Likely due to the unorthodox theories he's been publishing." Daniel Jackson smiled. " It's like he's the me of physics."

"Fine, fine, we'll put the pretty boy in the maybe pile." O'Neill turned to Carter. " Why don't we just go around the table and have everyone pick their favorite? It'll be ever so democratic."

"If you say so, sir," Carter replied. Teal'c noticed that she looked relieved. He understood that feeling. O'Neill was done with his protest and now they would be able to pick candidates. She went through the pile and opened a folder. " This would be my first choice. I like the multiple skills he'd bring. And, Colonel, you'll note that he's more handsome than pretty." She grinned.

O'Neill sighed as he looked over the file. " A New York cop. At least he knows how to shoot drug dealers. I'm sure we could teach him to shoot other things."

"Actually, he's quite intelligent, and considered a top investigator. Interestingly, he's considered expert at both forensic science and criminal psychology. Those are skills that could adapt well to Stargate Command." Carter looked at O'Neill expectantly.

"Put him in the offer pile. Teal'c, who is your pick?" O'Neill looked at him with interest. Teal'c supposed it was due to O'Neill's belief that Teal'c was the most like him on the team. Certainly, he did not share the scientific background of Capt. Samantha Carter or Daniel Jackson, but he did understand that when going into battle, one chose one's companions wisely.

" This is my choice," he said simply as he picked the folder out of the pile. Weighing in the skills of the amassed candidates versus the needs a Stargate team had, he felt that he had made the best choice. " My candidate is also an investigator."

" No, Teal'c, she's a spook." O'Neill said with a sigh. He looked at the folder. " She is pretty though."

" That was not a consideration," Teal'c said slowly. " She has an extensive medical background, education in physics, a trained investigator, and appears to have an extensive background in dealing with unique situations similar to our off world encounters."

" Oh yeah, " Carter said after she took a closer look at the file. " She was the ghost hunter… the one in the FBI unit that chases UFOs." She looked at the photo. " She is pretty."

Teal'c closed the file. " Her physical appearance was not a consideration." Though in fact she was quite pleasing for a human woman.

O'Neill took the file. " That leaves me, and I have to be honest, it all seems like six of one, half dozen of another. Anyone want my pick?" At that moment, the Gate alarm blared. They all jumped to their feet.

"Unscheduled offworld gate activation! All personnel to the gate room!"


	2. Kara

Author's note - this chapter is based on the fact that any one who comes through the gate is apparently qualified to be on a team :)

Clash of the Titans 2

Kara Thrace looked at the crumpled remains of her Viper and tried not to let the situation get her down. There was something of a bright side to the whole mess, she told herself. I could have crashed on a planet without oxygen. That was much more unpleasant than crashing onto a planet with lush greenery. Yeah, breathing versus not breathing, she knew what she preferred, but it was still a bad situation. She wasn't a half bad mechanic, in fact she knew that she was pretty good considering how little formal instruction she'd had, but there was always a point to where something broke and had to be replaced, not fixed. The Viper was not going to fly again, not without a massive refit.

And that meant that she was there to stay. It had been three days, one day more than what the commander would allow for a search. Worse yet, she had been off course so it was unlikely that a search party would have found her. It was time to face facts. The foggy green forest was going to be her new home for the foreseeable future.

She ran a hand through her short blond hair and breathed deeply. It could be worse, she supposed, but she wasn't sure how. She had taken the required Search Recon and Evasion course but only a head case would want to live that way all of the time. Even the instructors had to be rotated out occasionally. It didn't seem likely that she was going to find any alien life. The universe was pretty bare, as far as she knew, and knowing her luck she would run into something worse than Cylons. Besides, she had crashed a ship. It had not been stealthy, not at all. If there were aliens, she figured they would have been looking for her by then.

Still, the correct thing to do was to reconnoiter the area and make sure that she was not smack in the center of some alien nature preserve. The responsible voice inside her head, the one she liked to call "Lee Adama" was all for the idea. She really didn't have anything against the notion, except that it felt defeatist. It meant that she was going to spend the rest of her life on the planet she'd crashed on.

She picked up the pack of emergency supplies she had salvaged and settled it on her back. Her plan was to circle around the area and make sure that there were no Cylons in the area and no other potentially dangerous things in the heavy forest. At least I've got a gun, she thought darkly.

The pity, she thought as she roamed around the woods, circling farther and farther from her wrecked ship, was that it seemed like a pretty nice planet. Had she been able to report back to the Galactica, they might have considered it for colonization. Earth was the target but some of the ships were becoming increasingly unstable. Seeding a colony on some backwater pastoral planet was starting to look like a better option than forcing more and more people onto fewer and increasingly more crowded ships. It might even be safer to spread people out a little, but she hadn't planned on being the test case.

She had made a cursory walk around the immediate area when she had first crashed, enough to know there was potable water and live animals to eat if necessary, but as she walked, she had to admit that it seemed a shame that it didn't appear to be inhabited, at least not with intelligent life. Somehow she had expected that as they moved farther away from the colonies and from Kobol that at some point they would start to run into some Earth colonies. Or, more unlikely, alien sentient life. The colonies had never found any sort of alien life but that didn't exclude the possibility.

As she was musing on the idea, she reached the top of a short rise and found a meadow littered with large stone markers. It reminded her of the pictures she had seen of the ruins at Kobol, except for one glaring difference. In the center of the meadow, with all of the stone markers radiating from it like points, was a giant circle of metal.

" Well," she said softly, " someone must have lived here." She knew that wasn't entirely true. All the metal circle with the ring of stones around it meant was that someone had taken the time to build the site. By all appearances the place looked abandoned and well weathered. She stepped out of the tree line, with her gun out. Nothing swooped out at her, that was a good sign. She walked up to the giant ring. Kara had never paid much attention in the obligatory classes on ancient history but she couldn't help but recognize some of the many symbols that covered the wheel. More the pity that she was the one stuck there. Most everyone in the fleet was attending crash courses on the Pythian prophecies, but she, of all people, hadn't bothered. Now that she thought about it, there was a strange familiarity to the set up. Stone circles were a fairly common theme in a lot of parks on Caprica, although usually the center of the circle was devoted to a public religious altar or occasionally a play area. She wondered if the odd circle had somehow been left by the people who had colonized Kobol. There was plenty of evidence on Kobol, a number of people in the fleet said, that was a sign that Kobol had been colonized by Earth and not the other way around. She wasn't sure what she believed, but she doubted that it mattered any more. She would never see Earth, that was for certain. She sighed.

Suddenly she heard the sound of shots being fired. I'm not alone, she thought as she ducked behind the closest stone. More than one person, and more than one kind of weapon. She could hear the electric sound of energy weapons, and the more robust bangs of chemical propellant guns. Two men dressed in camouflaged uniforms burst out of the tree line, heading towards her position. Behind them, a row of armored men appeared, firing energy bolts. Both of the men were hit as they ran, and from the boneless way he fell, Kara knew that one was dead. The other was alive, and struggling to reach the small podium that was in front of the ring. In an instant, she made her decision.

She dove out from cover and came up on one knee, firing. The volley of fire took out the first four soldiers. They went down in a heap and she was surprised to see the last two start to run toward her. That took brave men. Stupid but brave. She calmly took aim and fired, dropping both. Now, she thought as she stood up, let's hope I made the right choice.

The uniformed man tried to move away as she walked towards him. " Take it easy, I'm friendly."

He eyed her carefully, scanning her outfit. She could see that he was in pain and wounded badly enough that leaving him would mean that he would die rather quickly. He didn't recognize her uniform, that much was clear. " Are you… one of the Jaffa? Or Tok'ra?"

"No," she said easily. The words he spoke were vaguely familiar, from the ancient religious texts. His accent was definitely not one of the common ones in the colonies and she didn't understand any of the rank badges on his uniform. " Are you expecting more of those guys?" She gestured to the fallen soldiers.

He nodded. " Help me up… to the DHD. I'll take you with me… the general will be pissed but…" he patted one of his pockets. She heard the crinkling sound of paper. " We need this intell. The Goa'ld are planning a big offensive. The whole system is… at risk."

There was a war on, with multiple players and she had crashed into the middle of it. She hoped that her luck was going to hold and that she was about to pick the right side. She helped the wounded man to his feet and half dragged, half carried him to the podium. He began to hit the various symbols, in a well remembered sequence. The large ring began to light up and spin and then it seemed as though water exploded from the ring, coming right at her, only to pull back, leaving a silvery force field in the ring.

"What is that?" she asked her companion.

He grinned, despite the pain he was in. " That's the gate. Haven't you ever… seen it before?" He was about to say more when they both heard the sound of many people running and more of the energy weapons being fired. The man began to look panicked. " We have to go!" He took a few steps away from the podium and collapsed.

"Fracking hell!" Kara muttered as she ran to him. She grabbed him up into a fireman's carry and ran towards the silvery force field. I don't like this, she thought as she looked at the shimmering field, but I think the folks chasing him aren't going to be too charitable either. She took a deep breath and jumped into the forcefield. It was ice cold and she couldn't seem to feel anything and yet also felt like her insides were being twisting to the outside. After what seemed like forever, she felt a force pushing her forward. She stepped and found herself standing on a steep metal ramp.

And all around her were armed soldiers pointing their guns directly at her.

It could still be worse, Kara told herself a few hours later as she sat at an interrogation table. I could be dead. Or on a planet with a deadly atmosphere. Or back on the other planet. The truth was, she had a pretty good feeling that the people who ran the base were more **interested** than angry over her arrival.

She had been taken to a holding cell immediately after arriving on the ramp. The man she had brought, who apparently was named Rogers, had been immediately taken by a group of medics. She thought they were medics, anyway. She had also been examined, while under guard, although the doctor had seemed more concerned with verifying that she was human than in checking on any possible injury. Whatever they were looking for, they didn't find it, and they seemed very relieved. Kara wasn't a fool though. She had walked into an armed camp. There would be an interrogation and these were military people.

The door to the room opened. " Tell General Hammond that we need to reschedule the Project Nine debriefing." The man who spoke stepped into the room, followed by two companions, a man and a woman. The first man, and the woman, were both in similar uniforms, dark green pants and shirts. Military, that she was fairly certain about, particularly since their outfits matched the armed guards in "the gate room". The third was in civilian attire, the sloppy sort of casual wear that Dr. Baltar wore. He had the same quizzical look, though he did seem to be lacking the odd physical twitches and sleazy leer of Dr. Baltar.

That was a plus.

The older man, gray haired but handsome, slapped down a pile of files. " So, who the hell are you?" He said it in a cheerful way, and he smiled. " I need to know who to thank for postponing an endless debriefing on who saw shiny objects in the sky in 1973."

So he was going to play the good cop. She was surprised. She had figured the good cop to be the attractive scientist guy. " Lt. Kara Thrace, of the Colonial Military. Where am I? How's your man? He said he was carrying some important information."

" What were you doing on that planet? P76A1 is uninhabited." That question was from the blonde woman. It was professional and to the point and Kara wondered if she was the one playing the bad cop. She just didn't seem tough enough.

" You should tell all those people that were shooting at us," Kara said easily. " I crashed my viper there. I was shot down."

" By Goa'uld ships?" That was from the younger man. He seemed very interested in her answer. " I'm not familiar with the colonial military. Where are you from, Lt. Thrace?"

" Where are you from? What's your name? Why the hell have I been treated like a criminal for helping your man?" She let her irritation come to the surface. These people, after all was said and done, were human. Her patience was wearing thin. " Who the hell are the Goa'uld anyway?"

The younger man smiled at her. " That answers one of my more important questions." He held out his hand to her. " I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson. We're Tau'ri. Does that mean anything to you?"

The problem was that it did mean something to her. Or, at least, she thought it did. She almost didn't want to be right. The sensation she had when going through the gate was one of extreme distance. That meant that the fleet was a very long way from it's final destination. If she was right.

On the other hand, if she was right, then there was a real place for the fleet to go, with a human population that had one hell of a neat travel trick. She suddenly wanted to be right.

" It's an old word, for the lost tribe. The lost tribe of Earth." She watched their reactions. They didn't seem terribly surprised. They shouldn't be, at least to her thinking. The thirteenth tribe must have some sort of tradition about the other tribes. They probably just weren't experts. She certainly wasn't. No, they weren't surprised, but only Dr. Jackson looked more than casually interested. " Is this Earth?"

The three looked at each other. " Yes, it is," the blonde woman said. " I'm Major Carter, and this is Colonel O'Neill and you rescued one of our scouts, which we do appreciate a great deal. You said you crashed your… Viper? Onto the planet… was anyone looking for you?"

" No, the fleet would have given up and moved on by now." She was trying very hard to keep cool. " We... the fleet… what's left of the colonies, we're looking for Earth. Do you have ships out there?" That came out in a rush. If Earth had such a powerful tool as the gate, then it stood to reason that they probably had ships either on that planet or nearby.

" Unfortunately, our space resources are very limited," Maj. Carter said slowly. " In fact, the majority of our interplanetary travel is with the gate. We're going to want to talk with you a great deal about where you're from and what you know, but you will be considered a guest here."

Dr. Jackson nodded. " I already have dozens of questions." He smiled reassuringly. " What about you, Jack?"

The colonel eyed her carefully. " I have a few." His tone suggested that his questions would be less friendly. " What did you do, in this fleet?"

She leaned back in her chair. " Primarily flew a viper against enemy assaults. I have some experience with interrogation, tactics, and sniper work, and I instructed others in flight." She didn't consider herself an expert in anything but flying but it wasn't the time to be modest.

" A pilot? Do you have a call sign?"

" Starbuck."

" Do you like coffee, Starbuck?"

Her eyes narrowed. He was making fun, that was obvious from his twinkling eyes and the covered smiles of his companions. " What's coffee?" she shot back.

" Well, fortunately we already have a barrista on staff." He seemed to consider her carefully again and then make a decision. " How would you like a job with us, Lt. Thrace?"


	3. Dana

Clash Of the Titans 2

Dana Scully looked at the clock and tried not to sigh. She was bored. She had not joined the FBI so that she could spend her time autopsying the bodies of serial killer victims. In fairness, she thought darkly as she continued filling out yet another report, I didn't join the FBI to chase after space aliens and the Loch Ness Monster either. Still, at least that was interesting. Tagging and bagging skin samples from dead prostitutes was not.

Worse, she had an appointment for an interview for a job she hadn't even applied for right after work. Her current boss, an idiot compared to Skinner, had apparently volunteered her for some sort of Air Force project. Ever since the X-Files had been shut down, it seemed like she was always being volunteered for whatever hair-brained project that came up. No doubt, she thought darkly as she washed her hands and grabbed her jacket, I'm about to be interviewed in some dank coffee shop by a junior officer who will be condescending because I'm not military. Worse, it was going to be followed by a long phone conversation with Mulder, who took paranoid interest in the various petty assignments that she had been given.

So, it took her by surprise to see a limousine waiting by the entrance of the lab. It was so surprising, she immediately began to consider just who had rated a limo, because it was impossible that a two star general of the Air Force was waiting with a limo to interview a somewhat disgraced FBI agent. It was especially disconcerting because the general looked a great deal like her late father. The general appeared to be waiting for someone and he clearly didn't mind the damp Virginia weather because he was standing next to the limo and not waiting inside. Unusual. Most top brass would have waited in the warm car. The general was in fact scanning the faces of the people leaving for the day, looking for someone. As he turned and faced her, it was obvious that he had been looking for her.

"Excuse me, " he called, " Are you Special Agent Dana Scully?"

" I am." She walked over to the man and put her hand out. " And you are?"

" General John Hammond of the United States Air Force." He smiled pleasantly. It was obvious that he was sizing her up. " I must say, I've very pleased that you agreed to listen to our proposal. I think you'll find this to be a marvelous opportunity. Why don't we go for a ride and we'll discuss what role you'll be playing in our project." He opened the car door and was clearly waiting for her.

" To be honest, I'm curious to know what sort of project you need me for, General," She tried not to let his well thought out pleasantries get to her. Hammond knew a thing or two about interviews and he wanted her badly enough to play the "assume they've already accepted" tactic. It was interesting. And flattering. Especially since she knew how to read the medal rack on the man's chest. Hammond hadn't gotten to the general ranks by manning a desk.

Inside the limo was another military officer, a female major. Traditionally pretty, Scully noted, probably the general's attaché. She was working on a laptop, but looked up at Scully and smiled pleasantly.

Hammond took a seat in the limo and the car began to move. He gestured to the major, " This is Major Samantha Carter, one of the people you'll be working with. You might be familiar with some of her work in the field of physics."

That made Scully sit up and think. She **had** heard of Dr. Samantha Carter. A top flight researcher, the woman had quietly left the physics scene a few years earlier. The few papers that she'd done since then were intriguing. At the same time, it made Scully even more confused. She had done her undergraduate work in physics, but that was not even close to the level that Carter functioned on. And the Air Force did not lack for medical doctors. " Well, I must admit you've piqued my curiosity."

" I hope to do more than that," Hammond said easily. " Dr. Scully, I am in charge of a top secret project with the Air Force. We're doing some highly technical and specialized work and we need someone with your unique talents. Now, unfortunately I can't give you a lot of details due to the project's classified nature but I can assure you that this is probably the most important scientific endeavor our country has ever or will ever participate in." He and Major Carter both managed to look earnest and serious at the same time.

"Why me?" Scully asked. " I'm an FBI agent. I solve crime. Most of my scientific background is in forensic medicine."

"You've done quite a bit of investigating in situations that are… extra-ordinary," Major Carter said. She had, Scully noted with some concern, that look. That earnest, puppy-like, true believer look that Scully had come to know so well. It was time to lay down the cards, she decided. It would be different if it was Mulder. It wasn't Mulder and she wasn't interested in getting sucked into some new version of Project BlueBook.

" I don't want to mislead either of you," she said firmly, " but I am not terribly interested in chasing UFOs or aliens or werewolves or whatever weird thing you might be hunting down."

Hammond and Carter exchanged looks. They were trying to cover up being amused. That was not exactly what she had expected, not when Carter had made a point of stressing their interest in her work on the X-files. " So what are we talking about?"

" Joining a team," Hammond said. " A team of elite specialists who travel to… let's call them exotic locations and solve problems for us. There's some danger involved, a lot at times, but it will also be immensely satisfying work. Work your country needs to be done."

A patriotism pitch. She was a little disappointed. Oh, it was an effective yank on her chain, she didn't work for the FBI because she hated America, but somehow the whole scenario had made her expect more. " Are you really saying that this… project… is more important than say combating terrorism?"

" This makes terrorism look like kiddie fights." Major Carter said exuberantly. Hammond eyed her and she visibly deflated. However, her outburst made Scully consider the proposal more seriously. From her experience with Mulder and the X-Files, she knew that intelligent people could sometimes hoodwink themselves into believing nonsense but that sort of thing didn't happen very often in the military. Carter also seemed very military and professional. Hammond seemed very professional and she knew that officers didn't make it to general rank by being crackpots.

"You can't tell me more than that?" she asked.

"The project is classified," Hammond intoned. " However, you will need to undergo training at our facility in Colorado and much will need to be revealed at that time. Are you interested, Agent Scully?"

" Where is the money coming from? Who's ultimately in charge? What exactly will my status be?" She had more questions, a lot more, but she figured it was best to start with the big ones. She didn't want to sign her life away just to be someone's secretary and when the military was involved, that's how a lot of women ended up. Major Carter's presence eased her mind a little on that score but it was still a worry.

" We already have several teams," Hammond said easily. He seemed pleased by her questions. " Each team is autonomous when on missions. You'll be on our first civilian team so your rank, so to speak, will be similar to what you currently enjoy. We may actually use the special agent designation. The money comes from the government, a secret fund. I am in charge of the overall mission, but of course, the president ultimately has the final say. And he does take a personal interest in this project." He paused. " So, Agent Scully, what do we need to do to get you on board? We want you with us, and I'm willing to work with reasonable requests."

She thought about that for a moment. She **was** interested but she also was very familiar with claims of having the president involved. In her experience, it was pretty damn hard to even talk to a congressman. " I'll tell you what," she finally said, " I'll do it… If you can get the president on the phone to assure me that this isn't some black government organization bent on god knows what."

Hammond picked up his cell phone and dialed. " This will take a moment." Then, after a only a few moments, he said into the phone, " Yes, Mr. President. I would appreciate it if you would reassure one of our candidates as to the positive intent of SG Command." After a moment he handed the phone to Scully. " There's someone who wants to talk to you, Agent Scully."

Dammit, Scully thought as she took the phone, his eyes were actually twinkling.


	4. Bobby

Clash of the Titans 4

He wondered why the Museum of Natural History had been chosen as the meeting place. He liked the museum, of course, but it was an odd place for a job interview. Especially for a mysterious government job that he hadn't even been looking for. It was odd and that tickled Bobby Goran's thoughts more than any of his recent cases had. It had been a long time since he had been to the museum for pleasure and not for work. The fact was, Goran was getting burned out. He was good at his job, but with Eames leaving for a less stressful position closer to her family, he was bored. Bored and possibly a little depressed. He accepted that possibility and didn't want to go down the road it led. Deep down, he knew it was his job. It was a job he loved, but he knew why the stereotype of the drunken, angry, bitter cop existed. It wouldn't hurt to look at other options.

He took a seat by the Egyptian exhibit and wondered if he was the only one who ever wondered why the pyramids were classified as "natural history". He had, as a child, read a great deal about the Egyptians, and the Greeks, the traditional ancient histories, to the point that he had taught himself Latin and Greek. Somehow though, he had moved on to other interests. Still, it was hardly natural history.

" Detective Goran?" Bobby stood up at the sound of his name and looked around. A young man, in his early thirties, was standing by one of the Egyptian obelisks. Bobby noted with some amusement that he towered over the nicely dressed younger man. He didn't **need** to play the cop intimidation game but it was always nice to know the option was there.

" I'm Detective Robert Goran." He said it pleasantly but he hoped the interview wouldn't take too long. He was curious but whatever the job was, it would need to be significantly better than what he currently had. He was well respected, after all, and if he wanted a change of scenery, even a transfer away from Major Crimes, he could easily get it. " And you are?"

The younger man smiled. " Dr. Daniel Jackson. It's a pleasure. I'm glad that you agreed to consider our offer."

Goran considered him. Jackson was nervous. His voice was pleasant but seemed tense, as if under normal circumstances he was more soft spoken. He was trying very hard to appear casual. If he were a suspect, Goran would immediately have assumed that he was hiding something.

And those instincts, Goran told himself, are why you want to consider a different line of work. There came a point when you looked at everyone with suspicion, where everyone was just a criminal. Even if he did move from Major Crimes to SVU or Narcotics, it was still chasing bad guys. Only, in those jobs, he would have twisted motivations **and** dead raped kids and drugs to deal with.

He mentally shook off that thought and returned his attention to Dr. Jackson. The man was uncomfortable, which was odd since he had chosen the meeting place. Goran quickly ran down the non-violent offender possibilities. Jackson probably didn't do a lot of interviewing, and might be shy in the bargain. People like that did overcompensate by trying to hard to appear outgoing. Plus, he realized in a sudden flash, Dr. Jackson just might not want to see the Egyptian display. He had been a laughingstock in the field due to his unorthodox views and before that… his parents were killed in an unfortunate accident. In a museum. That was interesting. It suggested that Dr. Jackson was very interested in talking to him. Or, that whoever Jackson worked for could twist his arm.

" I'm very curious to know what your offer is." Goran said pleasantly. He was. That was no lie. He had not been looking, not in any serious way. Yes, he was bored, and he had to admit he that he would welcome something new. Something different. It wasn't that catching criminals wasn't a good thing, it was just that he was bored. The reality of crime fighting was that most criminals were drug using flunkies. It was not difficult to outthink a drug using junkie. It was rare that he dealt with anyone who could outthink him or surprise him. Eames could surprise him, but he wanted to respect her wishes. Had he protested, she would have stayed in the city for him. For a while at least, and that was unfair to her. He decided to be bold. " I don't recall sending a resume to the United States Air Force."

"I'm sure you didn't, " Jackson said easily. " We aren't asking for applications. We're carefully choosing people who might be interested in the opportunity we have." Jackson glanced nervously at the display. " Colonel O'Neill is waiting for us in the food court."

Goran followed the younger man, finding himself more and more intrigued. O'Neill was a much older man, with grey hair and a definite military bearing. Physical intimidation was not likely to immediately cow such a man. No, Goran thought, the way to get the advantage was to be intelligent and on the surface, unintentionally superior witted. No flashy shows, just level headed common sense would be the thing that impressed O'Neill. Of course, that assumed that he wanted to impress O'Neill.

They took seats and Jackson made quick introductions. Goran took note of the careful respect Jackson showed O'Neill. It was not just the typical groveling of an underling to a superior. Jackson respected the man, was perhaps even friendly with him. That was potentially an interesting dynamic. It suggested that O'Neill was not typical military. While Jackson was hardly considered a serious researcher any more, it was unlikely that someone with his background would have a lot in common with a military man. Unless O'Neill had a lot of interest in Egyptian anthropology. Goran didn't think that was likely. O'Neill also seemed a bit more tightly wound than Jackson.

" So…" O'Neill drawled, looking him square in the eye, " You're Detective Robert Goran. The Sherlock Holmes of the New York police department. We… Dr. Jackson and myself, among others, work on a special project. In Colorado. We need a man with your talents."

"Really?" Goran let a touch of pique enter his voice. O'Neill was not coming off as desperate for anyone's help. He seemed annoyed by the whole process. The press to hire outsiders was not coming from O'Neill, that was obvious. " What talents would those be?"

O'neill sighed and rolled his eyes. " Let's cut the crap. You're a top forensic specialist who also happens to be a reputed mastermind of criminal motivation. You're a genius. You're wasted in your job because promoting up means you move away from the interesting work, and let's face it, you've mastered your job. Now it's just a matter of getting that rare interesting case that makes coming to work and dealing with the dregs of society worth it and that hasn't been so easy the last few months has it? You need a change and we're offering it."

What to say to that? "I'm not a genius."

" You **are** wasted here," Jackson said after a long moment. " I'm not saying that catching murderers isn't worthy… but you could be doing so much more. We can't get into details but we need someone like you."

" Really," he said again, " It doesn't seem like it. And someone has to work with the dregs of society. I do have some job satisfaction, you know. It's not all scraping up dead prostitutes despite what you see on CSI. And I work in Major Cases, not Special Victims so I'm not knee deep in dead kids." That caused a flash of anger from O'Neill.

" What's holding you here?" O'Neill asked. " It isn't your social life. You don't seem to have a girl friend, your partner left town, and your mom doesn't seem like a great conversationalist."

Goran smiled tightly. " Divorced, aren't you?" he said to O'Neill, letting Jackson drop from his focused gaze. " Yes, divorced. There was a tragedy, something you blame yourself over, and your wife left you. How many nights did you spend in your house, in your child's bedroom, holding your service pistol to your head and wishing you could find the reason to pull the trigger that didn't make you look like a coward." He was right, of course, every thing he said was hitting O'Neill like the well thrown verbal knives he had intended. But…. " I'd like to know more about your project."

Jackson and O'Neill both looked at each other and then at him. " Really?" Jackson said after a moment.

" I had the impression you weren't interested, " O'Neill said coldly. His look was dark, and Goran doubted that he would be forgiven anytime soon.

" It has to be very interesting if it stopped you from blowing your brains out."


End file.
